It's The End Of The World, Rick Didn't You Get The Memo?
by nyrhtakxo
Summary: Malachy McKinney's supply run goes south after encountering Daryl Dixon and Rick Grimes. After being taken as hostage and bargained for supplies, the only thing they didn't expect was his little sister waiting to kick their asses at the door. [DARYL DIXON/OC]
1. Summary

p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"Making his way into the nearest town, Malachy McKinney is under the impression that his morning was going to go smoothly and it was just going to be a quick supply run. Once he is off his high horse and rummaging around for loot, he encounters Rick Grimes and Daryl Dixon who are ready to bargain his life for supplies./p  
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"When Malachy has no choice but to take them back to the cabin where his little sister is recovering from serious wounds, Rick almost collapses at the sight of the young woman he never thought he'd see again./p 


	2. This Is What Happens When You An Upgrade

The homey hunting cabin stood proudly unharmed in the middle of the lush forest as rain poured from the sky, heaving down on the roof and slicking up the green moss growing around and over the wood that kept the building standing. Wild flowers and long grass began growing up the sides of the home, covering extra boards that had been hammered up for reinforcement.

Flaming red hair that was once briefly styled was now soaking wet and drips of rain were running down Malachy's clean-shaven face. He stared at the young woman through the dirtied windows, his smile was relaxed. She wasn't bugging him about coming along on his little supply trip, she needed as much rest as possible. His little sister was snuggled up in a rugged, moth bitten armchair, warming herself up as her eyes were glued into Game of Thrones and her ears were plugged from her Walkman. She was so engrossed, as if nothing was wrong on the outside. It looked like a normal set up, as if this place was really their home and they hadn't torn through a dozen walkers to get to it.

He kept smiling, she was safe today.

Her eyes flicked up, hidden away behind broken reading glasses that weren't even prescription. She noticed him watching her and she raised her arm, giving him an enthusiastic wave. Malachy couldn't help but slip up a little laugh. He gave a small wave back and then held up a peace sign, telling her that he was leaving now.

She mouthed I love you.

He mouthed back ' _Nerd_.'.

Malachy pulled his eyes away from the window and grabbed the heavy backpack that sat on the porch, picking it up and slinging it over his shoulder. He grabbed the woodman's axe that rested near the front door and slipped it in the holster on his back that he had made especially for it. Even though he was a decorated sergeant, stealthy hand-to-hand had never been his forte. He'd always gone for picking off enemies from a distance with a sniper rifle. Malachy turned to the majestic beast standing next to him and patted it on the side lovingly.

"Ready te go, Shelia?" His accent was Irish, it was still thick even though he had spent many years over in the states. The chocolate coated horse next to him whined quietly and Malachy heartily chuckled. Malachy lifted himself up on the saddle, sitting up straight and then clicked with his mouth, making the horse turn around slowly and then begin to walk through the forest. He had found the horse wondering around a field where they were settled at the time. The horse was enough for getting to places quietly and running away but his little sister had her treasure.

The horse kicked up leaves and wet, sludgy dirt as she stepped along the forest floor, Malachy comfortably sitting on the saddle with his hands gripping the reins. He remembered the essentials he needed to get, it was only a small supply run and he sure as hell didn't want to leave his little sister at the cabin any longer than he had to. She was recovering from a serious wound and since the thugs who did it managed to escape he's been paranoid ever since.

 _Heavy amounts of crimson liquid squirted through his hands as he pressed the towel harder onto the gaping wound. Her body had been cut up like a piece of meat and her skin was becoming paler and paler every second. What could he do? She's unconscious, perhaps even dead. He couldn't see his own skin colour from the amount of blood. He felt her convulse under the pressure. She was going into shock. He bit his lip hard as warm tears streamed down his face, blurring his vision._

 _"_ _C'mon, girl." He croaked out in a whisper. "I can't lose ye yet. I got ye."_

Malachy didn't understand why his mind drifted away to that moment when he'd almost lost her forever. He swallowed hard, clearing his throat to try and shake that feeling away from him.

"Can't be in this rain too much." Malachy spoke to himself more than the horse below him, beginning to pick up the pace and soon enough they were out onto the road. The rain was still coming down heavy as ever, Malachy just had to grin and bear getting soaked for the meantime, hopefully when he stops they'll be a place to dry off or at least make some sort of fire to warm up.

' _Can't get a fuckin' cold in this weather_." Malachy grumbled internally, his inside voice just as gruff and warm as the outside. The last thing he needed was to be sluggish and unable to fight when his counterpart had already been bedridden this week.

The town was coming into Malachy's sharp line of sight. It was only a couple of miles away from the cabin, so far it hadn't been picked through very thoroughly so Malachy could always find something every time he went. He was out of the safety area of their home and now into real walker territory. Even early in the morning, the walkers were incredibly active which is more than can be said about the forty-seven-year-old man when he wakes up in the morning. Usually before he leaves the cabin, he has to take out a few in the vicinity but today has been a lot calmer. They have a smart little invention covering the mile away from the cabin, fishing wire in different parts of the forest linked up to bells inside so they'd know if any intruders were around, not just walkers.

"Easy, now." Malachy told the horse as she began to feel nervous at the presence of a couple of walkers rustling about behind an abandoned car. Usually she wasn't a nervous horse but sometimes when they appear suddenly like that they get the better of her. "C'mon girl, just a couple of walkers." Malachy assured again softly. They weren't a threat right now.

Malachy kept going towards the middle of the town, only a few snarling walkers roaming around that Malachy could easily take out once he gets to the little restaurant that he had scoped out not that long ago. Whilst riding, he didn't hesitate the retrieve the handgun that sat in his holster, making sure the silencer was on firmly before shooting at two walkers that had begun to catch up with the horse's trot. Blood squirted all over the pavement below, the walkers slumping to the ground almost immediately.

Malachy got the horse to stop when he was near enough at the front doors of the restaurant. He jumped off the saddle, his combat boots hitting the ground heavily and his eyes scanned the area around him for any more walkers lurking around hidden corners or in shop doorways. For now, he was safe. Malachy pulled the axe from his back and slammed the sharp blade down on the worn padlock that kept the building secure. He'd already thrown stones a few days ago so he knew he wasn't walking into anything that might throw him down and chomp on him.

A low growling noise came from around the side of the building as the padlock made a clang on impact with the concrete ground. Malachy turned around slowly, his old eyes glaring at the brain-dead being that limped its way towards him. He raised his axe again, muscles defined underneath his wet coat and slammed it into the walker's skull before it got within the Irishman's personal space. The sharpened axe blade split straight down the middle of the skull, congealed blood slicking up the metal. The two sides fell open, brains bursting out of the open wound and blood spurting up in the air. Malachy collected some of the liquid on his coat but soon enough the rain began to wash it away.

"Ye fucks are gross." Malachy grimaced, pulling his axe away and kicking the dead walker down into the pavement like a sack of shit. He moved back over to the restaurant door and opened it slowly, anticipating some sort of wild animal to come running out at top speed.

He also had a fear of foxes.

Luckily enough, no bats or wild animals escape from the building. It must have been tight sealed for anything to get out or in. Malachy shrugged his backpack from his shoulders and rummaged through the many items inside the bag until he came across a flash light. He fiddled with the button and the bright lit emitted into the dark, almost pitch black, restaurant.

He could now see what he was walking into. The furniture looked as if it hadn't been moved a centimetre, totally still and caked in cobwebs. Malachy stepped further in, seeing the bar at the back of the restaurant and the door to the kitchen just next to it. The bar was still littered in full bottles of alcohol and the cabinet on the wall was full to the brim.

Malachy almost had tears in his eyes.

They hadn't had any alcohol in so long.

For medical reasons, of course.

He felt a small nudge in the back of his shoulder, making him jump out of his thoughts and spin around to the movement defensively.

He smiled with relief.

"Ye need te stay out here, Shelia." Malachy told the horse, rubbing her on the nose and peering back out of the door to make sure that there was nothing else lurking about apart from his horse. She neighed quietly, trying to step back out of the door. He moved back inside, going straight towards the counter with his almost body-sized bag open and swiped as many bottles of vodka that he could. For now, it'll have to be better than actual peroxide.

Malachy was happy he didn't have to be out in the rain any longer, even though it was beginning to let up now. He shrugged off his damp jacket and pulled off the jumper underneath that too, laying them both over two of the chairs so they'd somewhat air dry. He continued walking around in his wife-beater, picking up things as he went. He had scars decorated over his shoulders, one in particular he had gained when his sister had first started using a shotgun under his uncle Dermot's watch. It wasn't the only gunshot wound he had received in his lifetime.

Malachy had been built like a brick-shit house since he joined the Army at 18, before then he was a scrawny kid with a couple of health issues. He towered over everyone now, he had a lot of muscle that had been covered in scars received over the years, including a couple gained from his sister. He usually had his short ginger hair brushed back but the rain made it drop across his eyes and drip. His chiselled face didn't hold one freckle or scar, it was clean shaven and rugged. Malachy's hooded crystal blue eyes was the sole reason he was always being chased by women. When you looked at them, it was like he was boring into your soul and reading your every thought.

Yeah, he thought he got the good-looking genes.

Malachy made his way around the building. Once he was finished in the seating area and grabbed what he could; vodka, cigarettes and a few ammo boxes, he moved through to the kitchen. He knew soon as his eyes clapped on the refrigerator that he absolutely should not open it. This place probably fell around the time that everything else did and there was most likely fresh food inside at the time. It was going to smell like someone had died inside and had been lying there for almost a year.

He managed to find a few cans of peaches, a bag of oats that he was going to have to hold awkwardly on the back of his horse, a small bag of pasta and quite a few canned vegetables. The owner must have cleared out everything else because Malachy had searched the building high and low for any more food that hadn't gotten off. He had no choice but to look elsewhere.

' _So much fer bein' quick._ '

Malachy made his way back into the seating area, grabbing his jumper that hung from one of the wooden chairs and pulling it over his head. It had now become reasonably dry, the same for his jacket as he shrugged that one as well. Malachy could see that the rain had slowed and now was just spitting from the sky, hopefully his horse wasn't going to be too pissed off after being left outside. Malachy threw the heavy backpack over his shoulder, grunting at the weight.

He made his way to the front door that had been left open a jar. His pale hand rested on the hand and pulled the door open slowly but before he could take a step outside, his eyes clapped on the butt of a crossbow that was coming towards the side of his face at full speed. Malachy didn't have time to react and was hit in the face, the crossbow cracking into the side of his jaw. The Irishman fell to the ground, unstable from the weight of his bag and blacked out.


End file.
